Heat
by lululambchops
Summary: This is my first story so here goes...A ragtag group of travelers march across an arid desert, towards an unknown fate...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

As she trudged through the desert, taking dry, hot gasps of air and struggled against the blazing desert sun, she was unaware she was a party to her own murder. You had to watch yourself out here, the desert plays tricks with a persons head. But she trusted her crew, they were like her family...in times these tough, you had to rely on something. And for her, it was her crew. They used to have hover crafts that whooshed over the dunes, allowing them to patrol these wastes like kings. But times change, the cost of fossil fuels increased every day, resources were dwindling and with the climate so unstable budgets were being cut in every sector of government. A few years ago, her Mother has gotten very sick with pneumonia. She had been caring for them both on her tiny salary for years and there was simply no money for medication. Her Mother pleaded with her to sell an organ on the Black Market to fund the antibiotics that would save her life: however, trafficking in organs was illegal, and she would not do it. As her Mother died in her arms, her eyes pleading with her to be saved, gasping for her last breath...her primary thought was, wow this world is fucked.

But she had gotten up the next day and gone to work, because really, what else could she do? As they reached the rise of the next dune, they dropped to the hot sand, unhooked their canteens from their belts and refreshed themselves. Some of the crew liked to pour their canteen over their heads the heat was so bad, but she was older, more cautious...she took a small sip from her canteen, and swirled it around in she mouth before swallowing. It felt fantastic, but she controlled herself. She had been caught out here too many times and run out of water to be wasteful of such a precious resource...for precious it was indeed. She shook her head as she thought of how as a child she used to shower in drinking water...how times had changed. And not for the better. She lifted her hand to brush back a strand of her hair and cringed at the oily horror. She tried to keep it as clean as she could but she could barely afford the product that kept it from smelling...groaning she raised herself up again and scanned the landscape for any threats. Off to the southeast, something caught her eye as it glinted in the distance. She immediately dropped down and signalled to her crew. They took combat positions and crawled to the top of the rise to assess the threat. She took out her binoculars and gazed into the distance, uncertain what she would find but on high alert none the less. Can't be too careful she thought to herself as she saw what looked to be a caravan being pulled through the sand by emaciated looking horses. Many figures, their gender unclear as they were cloaked in the desert styles of many layers of billowing clothing roamed around the caravan mounted on more horses. That did not concern her. What concerned her was that they were all carrying high powered semi-automatic machine guns and the caravan bore the symbol of the vulture: scavengers of the desert, these sand pirates roamed the wastes, braving the sand storms and harsh conditions to eek out a living pecking off the corpses of those forced to travel these wretched stretches of damaged coastline. She looked at her crew, and did a quick calculation in her head about their chances...it didn't look good. However protocol clearly demanded they immediately arrest the group: displaying the vulture symbol alone was a felony, an invitation to be arrested as far as she was concerned.

"Okay guys, listen up. We have to do this, we have got no choice. We all signed up for this when we took the job, so no moaning or chicken licking, you got it? we are going in, and you guys are going to make me proud, no matter how this ends. I'm just going to get a better look and work out what angle we should go in at...I would kill for a set of comms to call back up, but I should quit dreaming...those things never work out here..." she sighed wistfully as she turned and put her binoculars back on, to survey the group of bandits. As she heard the motor on her first officers plasma rifle start to whir up she started to turn, but felt hard hands grip her shoulders, her arms, her neck..."We have got families, you don't understand..." Rick stammered, or at least she was pretty sure it was Rick...the wavering, adolescent voice was a give away. Looking through the binoculars at her only asset, she said "The vultures will hear the shot, and you will be pecked clean just like everybody else..." with only a slightly odd pitch to her voice. Damn the recession, it claims another victim she thought, almost letting out a dry chuckle but was aware it could easily turn into a sob. She tried to lower her binoculars to wipe the gritty sand from her eyes, but the hands that painfully gripped her arms prevented her. The harsh taste of betrayal stung her mouth and the sand chaffed her eyes, but it was the sand she blamed for the single tear that ran down her cheek. Her crew was not her family after all, and were in fact now her killers. This world is so fucked. Maybe oblivion wont be so bad after all she thought as she turned her head up sharply to stare directly into the sun, resolute to the end...and then everything exploded.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She pried her eyes open, only to see sand and smoke in a haze around her. The hands that once bound her body like cuffs were now gone, she was free! She quickly took advantage of this good fortune and drew her pistol – it was already cocked and loaded, as always. It had advantages over the standard issue plasma: sure, it didn't make a massive hole in a person, splattering you with so much human gore that you had to spent hours every night scrubbing your uniform...but it also didn't take 30 seconds to warm up, something that she firmly believed should have ruled it out as a combat weapon from the get go. She had trained with this well oiled, reliable old pistol and she carried it with her religiously - it had saved her life more times then she could count. Grinning maniacally at her miracle escape from such a doomed situation she rose from her lowered position and scanned the area, looking for the source of the explosion, which felt and sounded like a smoke bomb. Peering through the mist she made out two figures wrestling on the ground, their bodies entwined. Squinting while wiping the ash from her eyes she could recognize the aggressor as being Rick, and the other was...Alex! Perhaps she wasn't as alone in this wretched world as she thought!

She rose herself up and drew a great breath into her lungs: "Get the fuck off him Rick or I shoot you through the your empty head!" she bellowed in a parade ground voice. This however had little effect on the combatants and they continued to struggle on the dune, their forms obscured by the sands. Sensing she was losing what precious advantage she had, she raised her pistol to point towards the orange, shimmering sky and fired. One shot is loud enough to be heard for miles across the sand dunes, and she knew that not only had she now gotten Ricks attention, but also the attention of the Vultures was sure to follow. Rick was staring at her all bugged eyed, the deer in head lights kind of deal which he should be well past now, being all of 17 years old. The young didn't survive long here if they weren't smart, and Rick had just proved how little smarts he had. She would have to use not only her wits but also her balls if she was going to escape this new but yet equally deadly situation she now found herself in. But at least she was not alone! She sought Alex's eyes and found them: a moment passed between them, a recognition that their relationship meant something, and could perhaps be more. But there was no time for such things now. And she suddenly realized she did want to escape: as fucked as this world was, at least there still was one, and she wanted to stay in it! She had no real belief in regards to an afterlife, being it either pleasant or otherwise...this one life was all you got, and she wasn't going to let a little prick like Rick take hers away. She leveled her pistol at Ricks head, now clear of Alex who was rolling away and coming to his feet. "Well now, I think we had best be on our way team, as that shot will have those Vultures on us in no time. Move out!" And with that she holstered her pistol, shielded her eyes from the returning glare of the sun and broke into a sprint away from the vultures, praying that their flight would save them from becoming their next meal.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

She dropped her exhausted body to the hot sand: even though every part of her exposed flesh immediately started to burn where it contacted the ground, just no longer being on her feet was a relief. Her crew has split up into smaller factions: herself and Alex were on their own. As she recalled the days events she felt this was not a bad thing: she had no idea how to handle her crew at the moment, and she had had no time to formulate a plan. Mutiny was for pirates, wasn't it? A giggle escaped from her parched throat, and it occurred to her that they had not stopped for water for about 8 hours. So far there had been no sign of the Vultures but as the sand obscured the landscape so thoroughly it was hard not to imagine them suddenly appearing behind them from the top of the last sand dune. She pulled burning air into her gasping lungs and digested every detail of her suffering: for suffering implied life, beautiful life!

Alex looked at her in concern and she rolled her eyes, discarding his enquiring look. She reached behind her to unhook her backpack and then cursed – she had taken it off when they had stopped for a rest! Her water canteen was also absent from her belt...in the confusion she had lost all her provisions and survival equipment! A groan erupted from deep within her throat and seemed to rip through her swollen wind pipe. A canteen appeared seem-ling by magic in front of her face and she felt dizzy with relief – Alex still had his pack! Grasping the canteen and bringing it gratefully to her lips she sipped at the sweet liquid. It trickled down her throat to nestle comfortably in her stomach. Reluctantly she returned the cap to the bottle and placed it on the sand: they would need to conserve their water if they wished to reach the closest outpost by tomorrow night without passing out from heat stroke. She watched as Alex riffled through his bag for something and emerged looking triumphant holding a can of...what was it? On no...cat food. Anything but cat food. She supposed it was better then actual cat, which she avoided eating if at all possible. Cat was now the staple ingredient in most meals: with the refuse going uncollected on the streets and the bodies piling up when correct burial could not be afforded, the feral cat population was completely self sustaining...but you had to wonder about the food chain...people eating cats, which eat people, who then eat the cats...its no wonder retards like Rick were everywhere, even in her crew. That stupid shit almost cost them all their lives: she didn't think she would have to worry about dealing with Rick. No, her crew would take care of that. Maybe things were looking up after all? Maybe she could stomach some cat food, which after all did not in fact have cat in it despite the cats plastered all over the label? As Alex retrieved a rusty looking spoon from his rucksack she observed with growing revulsion the way the jelly hugged the meat: if you could call it meat, this minced concoction of random organs. When did it come to this? I wouldn't feed my own cat this shit...and as Alex took a spoonful into his mouth, chewed, and made a thumbs up sign she couldn't help thinking...so this is my life now huh, a romantic dinner of cat food presented to me by my (future?) boyfriend in the desert fleeing from Vultures...yeah, actually, that sounds about right.

Alex seemed to sense her distress for he put down the can and fished around in his pack once again, bringing his prize to her as he crabbed across the sand. "This should make it go down easier" Alex said in a conspiritory voice and handed her a small stub of white powder: buzz, he had some buzz! A true belly laugh started in her stomach and made its way to her mouth, expressing itself as a relieved whoosh of air. "But this is fantastic Alex, we can push through tonight and reach the safety of the Eastern Shard!" she exclaimed in an excited, scratchy voice before downing the tiny parcel in one gulp. The effect was thrillingly immediate and overwhelming: strength and energy filled her body, and her very nerves felt like they were on fire. Buzz was the latest mix of whatever chemicals were on hand to make a drug you could take but not lose your ability to survive. It heightened your senses and gave you unreal endurance but when you crashed, you crashed hard. If they didn't make it to the Shard by sun up they wouldn't make it at all. The image of their sun bleached corpses lying at the bottom of a valley slammed into her head but she rejected it: such was the nature of buzz, it amplified any emotion, any thought...those predisposed to violence were a nightmare on the stuff, and could only be put down with deadly force. She herself had to execute too many people high on the damn stuff, but this situation validated its use...or so she told herself, she didn't much care, she was busy staring into Alex's sky blue eyes, lost in his inviting gaze. But then she shifted her body and her back ached, her feet were bloody in her boots and she smelled ungodly: she felt about as sexy as death. Which is ironic, because that is exactly what she hoped to escape. And with that primary motivation fresh in her head she once again unsteadily rose to her feet and as Alex secured their provisions (including the uneaten can of cat food) she stared out into the distance, judging their course via the position of the sun. Yes, a whole night of running on daggers for feet over molten hot sand which even in the night blew into your eyes and mouth and caked your throat...on buzz, even the prospect of this sounded fun. The drugs were just that good.


End file.
